It Hardly Seems Fair
by BritishGirlWhoWrites
Summary: Fangs. Her best friend. Her brother. He was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. And never coming back. [2.21 - Toni is struggling deal with her best friend’s death but Cheryl tries to help]


"Are you sure you're okay?"

She nods with as much confidence as she can muster, but it doesn't hide the fact that she was trembling noticeably. Spending time in Penny's and the Ghoulies' custody was terrifying for every reason out there. She knew all that they were capable of, and every single thing on that list was not nice.

Penny was, as much as she hated to say it, a smart woman. She knew how to break people down. She knew how to torment people. She knew how to get her own way. Toni was surprised the Serpents hadn't exiled her sooner. She didn't care about any one of the gang members. She only cared about money, drug dealing, cruelty, and getting her own way. People who held that sort of ethos deserved nothing short of death.

"Did she hurt you?"

"She blew the dust off a few boxes I'd wish she hadn't opened. Other than that..." she shrugs. Cheryl understands wholly. They'd had talks on what those 'boxes' most likely held a while back, Toni unveiling her past one evening not too long after Cheryl had been rescued from the Sisters Of Quiet Mercy, the two girls clinging to each other almost as if their lives depended on it.

Right now, though, doesn't matter. She has other things fresh on her mind, more severe things which easily could end traumatically. One of those things is Fangs – the last time she saw him he had a bullet in his stomach and was barely conscious, and no one had heard a thing about his state since Jughead asked at the hospital just before he left – then, he was still reportedly in surgery. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the lack of news is good news. She hoped. God, how she was _praying_ for that to be situation.

Jughead leans against his bike, staring somewhat sympathetically at his fellow Serpent. She looks up to him, brown eyes shifting from the ground to meet his face and giving him a tight, forced smile.

"Thank you, Jug, for coming," she inhales a shaky breath, trying to hide the way her voice breaks ever so slightly on the last syllable. "And calling Cheryl. That's a situation I never want to find myself in again."

"No worries," he smiles, "I'm just glad you're safe."

A noise – almost like howling or something – comes from behind the cluster of trees separating the three from the rival gang. Cheryl doesn't ignore the way the shorter girl flinches, eyes snapping in that direction in fear.

"Let's get out of here. _Now_."

* * *

 _"He didn't make it. He's gone."_

The words ring in her head, playing back over and over and over like a stuck cassette tape. Fangs. Her best friend. Her _brother_. _Gone_.

At first, it doesn't register. It doesn't register that she'll never see him again. It doesn't register that never again will she listen his voice or hear to contagious laugh light up the room. It doesn't register that he isn't breathing anymore, that he never will ever again, that his lungs aren't working and neither Kate his heart or any other organ in his body. It was like she is being spoken to a foreign language; solemn tone, devastating context, but regardless of how many times she tries to decipher those six words she doesn't get it. She can't understand it. She can't translate those sounds into a sentence which makes her feel something other than numb to the bone.

He's _gone_.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. _Gone_. And he's never coming back.

It feels like a lie, or just some really stupid joke, because these scenarios are destined for use in tv shows and movies. Best friends aren't supposed to hook up with people who then get brutally murdered by serial killers in the middle of school performances only an hour or so later. Best friends aren't supposed to be die in riots because they've been falsely accused of said murder because of a video camera recording at the wrong place at the wrong time. That doesn't happen in small towns like this. That doesn't happen in real life.

But it _did_.

"Toni..." she's aware of the voice in front of her, but she can't make out who it belongs to and she can't raise her eyes from their set position in the ground to look at them. She can't even make out what colour clothes they arewearing, if they're male or female – everything has transformed into some black and white haze, and she feels dizzy as if the world was spinning at some impossibly fast rate and she under no circumstances was able to keep up with it...

At some point she moves across the room to sit back down on the stage she was sat on only a couple of moments ago, and Cheryl is kneeling in front of her, running one comforting hand up and down her knee with the glass of water from earlier in the other. There is a sincere expression in her eyes, full of sadness and empathy and whatever else in there which she is struggling to comprehend. Toni takes a sip, swallowing hard as she tries to do as little as get it down her, breathing echoing off the smooth rim. The cold liquid grounds her a little, sobering her from that state of shock. Glancing over the redhead's shoulder she can make out Sweet Pea at the other end of the room, pacing with one of his huge hands on his forehead and teeth gritted, almost angry yet at the same time betrayed, lost, confused, sad. He toonus struggling to take it in, trying yet failing to make sense of this senseless situation in this senseless world – trying to figure out what went wrong, and why their group of three has suddenly become a group of two at merely the blink of an eye.

Toni glances back at Cheryl momentarily, searching for the _'go ahead'_ in her facial expression before lifting herself up and walking on unsteady legs which threaten to collapse under her light body weight to the boy who is twice her size, tapping him on the forearm and looking up to meet his eyes, lost in anger and shock and guilt and grief. Immediately he wrap one of his muscular arms around her, pulling his one remaining best friend close as she buries her face into his torso. Cheryl stays put, looking on with tears in her own eyes and wishing more than anything in the world that this is all one long, sick joke.

* * *

Toni lingers aimlessly for the rest of the night. Cheryl watches her from a distance, her heart pleading for her to run up to the smaller girl and engulf her in a tight hug, draw out the sadness that dwells in her eyes and to just do anything that will make her smile any smile other than the one she flashes the redhead every so often when she catches her staring – the smile which seals the lie to the other girl that she's fine, even though she really is devastated beyond explanation – but head begs her to stay put, keep her distance and let the girl she loves so much figure out this whole situation on her own.

She doesn't leave Sweet Pea's side. They sit together in silence for the most part, at some other point she catches them talking about something whilst staring at the ground. When Sweet Pea get up to help the other Serpents with packing bags for the attack which is supposed to be going on at daybreak, Toni follows close behind like a lost puppy.

 _They both look like lost puppies,_ Cheryl thinks to herself, _unsure and scared and bereaved, half the world away from their usual strong and confident states._

He slams down a shot glass. She rests her chin on her hand and locks her eyes on some stain on the table. It's heartbreaking, and the worst part about it is how she can't do anything to help the situation in the slightest.

* * *

Betty travels in the ambulance with FP and Jughead. Archie _had_ tried to persuade her to go home and get some rest, but he gave in soon enough upon thinking about the events only an hour or so ago resulting in that shitty Cooper home situation which was only going to do her an equal amount as good as going to that hospital with her boyfriend. Him, Sweet Pea and the two girls stand in the street, watching and listening as the sound of the sirens fade into the cold night.

"Hey," Cheryl says eventually, hand continuing to rub her girlfriend's upper arm comfortingly, "Come on. It's been a long night. Let's get you home."

She wasn't lying. It had been a long night. The riots started just after midnight, and right now it's about half four in the morning and the town feels so still. There isn't an awful lot else they can do now, other than cry and pray that when the phone rang the next morning or afternoon or _whenever_ that the voice behind it would be the bearer of good news.

She feels the Toni nod from beside her. She'd been mute all night, saying maybe two sentences in the timeframe. It was something Cheryl had picked up from the smaller girl over the time they'd been together; whenever Toni was scared or upset she would go very still and very quiet. Right now, both of those emotions were there. She doesn't blame her one bit.

Her red convertible isn't parked far away. She doesn't know the Southside like the back of her hand just yet – sure, she knows where the most dangerous zones are and that it was a borderline death wish to wander alone at night anywhere in these parts, but to be honest the vehicle she loves so much probably poses the same level of vulnerability as it would any place in the Northside right now. Her car's safety isn't even a pressing issue right now – how could it be after all this?

As soon as they get in, Toni turns away to face the condensated window. From the way she angles her face completely out of the redheads sight and the sound of the occasional sniffles which come her way, Cheryl can only assume that the other girl is crying. She knows that the other girl preferred privacy in times like this, and whilst the redhead would die to say something which might make her feel better even in the slightest she doesn't want to invade that moment, so simply sighs and reverses out of the parking space she'd made out of a lay-by at the edge of the woods, driving back to Thistle House in silence. Despite earlier's Black Hood attack, she feels safer there than anywhere else in this town. The trailer park is out of the question, as is any other place in the Southside – it isn't worth the risk of potentially another encounter with the Ghoulies. Neither of them have any cash on them, and it's too late to call for a hotel room anyway so they don't exactly have any other options. For a moment, Cheryl wonders about where Sweet Pea and the other Serpents might be crashing tonight, feeling a wave of guilt when she figures that the best they will manage would most likely be the Wyrm, whatever still-intact cars they could break into, or the bare streets. She should have invited them all to stay at hers. _They_ had invited her into their community with few questions asked when Toni had rescued her from the Sisters, after all, and it isn't like Thistle House doesn't have enough room for them all. But right now, glancing over the night they'd just endured and considering the emotions slowly yet surely being released from the smaller girl, wasn't the time to introduce new housemates. She would repay the favour soon, _of course_ she would, but maybe tonight all they needed was a few moments away from the rest of the world to grieve and to think.

With each passing metre, her girlfriend lets out more sniffles and soft sighs, occasionally bringing her hand to her face to wipe away what Cheryl assumes were tears. She's trying not to make any noise, she really is, Cheryl can see that. She doesn't want any pity. She doesn't _need_ any pity. _She_ was the lucky one. It wasn't her who had died, after all. It had been her best friend, her _brother_ (in that non-biological sort of way) who had breathed his last breath, and now he was gone and she would now only ever see him in photos and videos, listen to him in voicemails he'd sent her when he was drunk and read his advice in old text messages which dated back three or four years. He was no longer breathing, talking, moving. His life had fallen apart, and it felt as if Toni's world had fallen apart with it.

Maybe the world _had_ fallen apart. That gunshot... it had started everything. It had brought the Ghoulies back. Now Jughead was hurt and—

 _"It's okay,"_ Toni feels a soft hand reach for her free one, a thumb lightly brushing over her knuckles, _"it's okay."_

It wasn't really. Toni could have died. Fangs did die. Jughead might die. There really is nothing 'okay' about that situation, but the sound of that soft voice she knows so well is just about enough to seize her tears, even if it would only be for a short period of time

* * *

She releases the heart wrenching sob which had been left caught in her chest the minute the sound of the closing door stops echoing off the creamy coloured walls. It comes out as a choke, the smaller girl burying her face in her hands as she tries to kick off her laced-up Doc Martins. That only makes it worse, with her resorting to kicking the back of her calves in hopeless attempt to remove them when the realised the the black leather would fall from her feet.

"Hey," Cheryl approaches her immediately, placing two hands on her shoulder, "Don't do that. You're just going to hurt yourself, alright?"

No response. It's almost as if she hasn't even heard her. The Serpent just keeps kicking and crying helplessly. It isn't pretty crying, like girls always pull off in sad high school movies; it was uncontrolled wails, nose running, breaths uneven, throat sore from the mountain of emotions which had built up in for the past twenty four hours – from Fangs being arrested, to him being released, to him being shot, then to her being kidnapped and to Fangs being pronounced as dead and to Jughead being beaten until unrecognisable. It's a lot to process in a short period of time, and she doesn't know how to process it.

"Come on," Cheryl tries again, moving her hands to around her wrists as she tries to hold the shorter girl in one place. She thrashes, using all of her strength left in her in an attempt to break away from her restraints. Despite being inches shorter, she's a lot stronger than Cheryl – she remembers the time at the Wyrm where she'd proposed that she could break the taller girl's wrist in a single move. That didn't happen then, but who was to say that it wasn't going to happen now? Cheryl only knows that devastation and frustration – the emotions in play right this moment – often led to things which weren't intended to be done or said happening. "Toni, hey, this isn't going to help anything. We can't do anything."

It's the horrible truth, and Cheryl hated being the bearer of that news. She can't do anything. Neither them nor Sweet Pea or any of the other Serpents can do anything to bring him back. It's too late. He's gone. He's not coming back.

It makes Toni feel sick, how it was all out of her hands and how she can't do anything to save him. It was either that thought, or the way she'd been crying so much and so hard, which makes her rush into the bathroom and empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet, collapsing against the wall again in tears. Cheryl shifts to her side, resulting in Toni launching herself into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around the redhead in desperation and uncertainty.

"I'm sorry—" she croaks out.

"It's not your fault, TT."

Cheryl's pretty sure Toni had said the exact same thing to her before; if not the exact same, something very similar. It feels so strange knowing that the roles had reversed, so scary knowing that Toni – the strongest person she knew by far, yet so weak in this moment – is in such overwhelming pain.

"I can't... _I can't..._ " Cheryl's brows crease in concern and she bites her trembling lip. "Jughead told him he wasn't going to die. At the station... h-he lied. And now..." another painful sob erupts her body. She can't continue on. She can't say it out loud, the thing about Jughead _nor_ the thing about Fangs. Just the thought alone – the mere _idea_ that Fangs was gone and Jughead was lingering on death's doorstep – is enough to destroy her. Cheryl holds her as tight as she can, trying to keep her own tears at bay for the sake of her shattered girlfriend, knowing that her degree of pain isn't anyway near as severe at the Toni's, praying for anything and everything which will alleviate it to come running.

"I-I didn't even get to say goodbye!" the pink-haired Serpent chokes out after a few minutes of constant heart-wrenching sobs and wails. Cheryl, tears pricking her owns eyes with the innocence and agony in those words, simply hugs her even tighter or the point where she wonders whether or not the embrace is painful and bids that she's never going to let go. Tonight was just another example of how fragile life is, how easily it can be ripped to shreds and discarded and destroyed, and how death has no filters.

* * *

"I just want to go to bed," the Toni whispers eventually, pulling away and not daring to meet the other girls face. Cheryl wants to cry when she notices the bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks. _She looks so hurt, so worn-down,_ Cheryl thinks as nods sadly, giving the other girl a hand and pulling her up from the cold bathroom floor, gesturing for them to go upstairs to her bedroom.

They don't bother getting changed. Toni doesn't even notice the massive gaping hole in the door or the open window with curtains blowing violently in the wind. She's too distraught for even the lowest level of observation.

She lies as close to the other girl as possible but she still feels alone. Cheryl wraps her arms around her, pulling her tight to her chest and kissing her forehead, leaving her lips there. She knows what it's like to lose a brother. Even eight months on it still feels as if a part of her is missing and she doubts the hole in her heart would ever be filled – a scar of the same bullet which had taken him away from her. He, like Fangs for Toni, had always been there for her, had always been the one protecting her, the one she could talk to, and then something tragic happened and he was stolen from her and everything was over as fast as a bullet itself moves.

Toni cries herself to sleep and each tear which lands on the fabric of her black turtleneck is like a stab to the heart. The holder of the metaphorical knife remains held close to Cheryl's chest. If there's anyone know knows that the people who are hurting the most who cause the most pain, it's her. The bare sight of the tears the strongest person she knows in the world can't keep from falling hurt the redhead like rusty, deeply penetrated daggers being twisted slowly from the inside out.

So Cheryl murmurs sweet nothings which she can only hope will do something to alleviate the shorter girls pain until the ragged breathing evens out and they both succumb to eight hours of mindlessness, thankfully forgetting the pain of the previous night for even that short period of time.

* * *

Toni doesn't remember much when she wakes up the next day. With only a couple of hours of sleep it isn't surprising.

But she does immediately realise that's something _is_ up. She's in Cheryl's house and, whilst waking up there had been becoming a more normal situation in recent weeks, she is lying in bed fully dressed in everyday attire. Her eyes sting as if they'd had bandaids ripped off then, and there is blood caked under her nails.

It isn't her own blood, though.

It's— _no..._

Her face crumples as she lets out a whine, biting her lip in failed attempt to prevent another loud, agonising sob from being ripped from her chest.

Right now, everything hurts so much. It hurts more than that time last year she was shot in the collar and admitted to hospital for week. This time, however, there's no painkiller to take the sharp ache away. This time, there are no pins in place to lessen the damage. This time, it is emotional pain.

"Hey," Cheryl's voice was thick with sleep. Toni's crying had obviously woken her up, but she doesn't care because she'd go a hundred sleepless nights if it were the solution take that ache away from her girlfriends heart. She simply pulls herself closer to the Serpent and throws an arm around her waist, using the other hand to wipe the tears away from her face. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Shhh..."

She can't imagine what's running through her head right now – she isn't sure if she _wants_ to – but the gesture and the words let the shorter girl know that she's not alone. It's the only thing she can do at that moment in time and although soothing words won't bring _him_ back or draw Jughead to safety, sometimes simply _knowing_ that someone is right by your side to help you though the hard times is the only thing you really need.

* * *

They're the last to leave the cemetery. Toni doesn't want to leave at all and Cheryl will let her stay because she can't bear to drag this broken girl away from her deceased best friend's body, six feet under yet feeling more like five laps of the world away, so they sit down on the wet grass staring silently.

"How did you do it?" Toni eventually says, voice so broken and barely above a whisper. "How did _you_ deal with this?"

Cheryl sighs, wiping a fallen tear away from the chocolate orbs which beg her for help.

"I didn't," she shakes her head. "I didn't deal with it. It still hurts... knowing that I'll never see Jason again, and knowing that I've looked at the photos and videos of him a million times and there won't be any more added to the collection. It hurts knowing that they're all that's left of him. It hurts that he's never going to marry Polly and that he's never going to meet the twins, and that he's never going to give his words of wisdom on the darkest of days or stand up for me in front of my mother when she does so much as raise a finger. He's never going to go to college and achieve his dreams and grow old..."

Her voice trails off. Talking about her brother opens barely healed wounds, but that's not her fault. She's had time to acknowledge that nothing to do with Jason was her doing. Still, she still feels the guilt which had been forced upon her by the man who left the scars on her heart in the first place. She isn't at the acceptance stage of grief, nor anywhere near it. She knows that he was gone but...

"You _can't_ deal with that, Toni. You can't just simply _deal_ with the fact that he's gone, that he's never coming back. You're going to cry and scream and you're going to look at his seat in class and you're going to want to break down and run out do the room in that very moment. And that's fine. If you want to, go ahead and do that. I did. More than once."

That didn't get her into much good, in all honesty. She'd wander around for a good five minutes, and then the school counsellor would find her and interrogate her into sharing what exactly was going on – which she didn't even understand _herself_ – and when she'd arrive home her mother would tell her how _pathetic_ she was for having to do that and she'd feel even more shit about herself and the fact that Weatherbee made her go and sit in that woman's office during every study period for several weeks.

"I mean... I'm not going to pretend that I know what you're going through," Cheryl continues. "Just... I want to _help_ , because I understand what is like to lose someone. Promise me that you'll talk to me. Don't cut me off. Tell me when you feel like it's not going to get better because I can't stand the thought of you even thinking on the lines of doing the thing I did. Promise me, okay?"

Toni draws her eyes away from the redhead's, brushing her wet hair back from her forehead. Promises. She didn't take them lightly anymore. Fangs had promised that he'd never leave. Some would say that the promise had been broken because he wasn't alive anymore, and that just about gives her an excuse to refuse what Cheryl js begging from her, but at the same time she figures she didn't. Cheryl had reminded her constantly over the past two weeks that he was still there. Toni wasn't religious, but something or another had led her to believe that he is looking over her, and that is enough of a reason to make her believe that the promise _hadn't_ been broken. Fangs hadn't chosen to die. Fangs had his life taken from him by a mother who was struggling to grieve. That said mother is most likely going to be charged with murder of some degree, rightfully too, and even though Toni hates her for destroying the life of her best friend she can't seem to bring herself to _not_ say something in court. Fangs wouldn't have wanted that to come from his death. Likewise, Fangs wouldn't have wanted Toni to do something stupid because of his death, either.

So she nods, forcing a smile.

 _"I promise."_

Cheryl smiles softly, pulling her towards her, their lips meeting. It's still raining heavily, drops landing on their faces and mingling with the tears which are still falling from both of their eyes, but the kiss is still beautiful, and Toni swears she can hear Fangs laughing at them, referencing one of those high school romcoms she would always force him to watch with her, and for the first time in two weeks she felt okay.

She was still fractured, _shattered_ even, her heart the same – but this love was far from that state.


End file.
